


stop opening presents and listen

by qynntessence



Series: 'tis the season [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 07:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5530406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qynntessence/pseuds/qynntessence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His boyfriend is currently pinned to the floor by a mass of green something, and John doesn’t really have the time to figure it out before his phone comes out to document the gorgeousness that is Alexander Hamilton, the pride of the goddamn nation, struggling with- he realizes it now- the bottom half of a Christmas tree.</p><p>Twitter might actually explode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stop opening presents and listen

**Author's Note:**

> ...I wanted to write a short little fluff piece about Alex and John trying to decorate for Christmas. It turned into an 8000 word sickfic fluffy mess? I don't know how this happens.
> 
> Everything in **bold** is French!
> 
> As always, if there's anything in the TW that you don't want to read, leave a comment with a way to contact you and I'll send you an edited version!
> 
> TW for casual mentions of sex, casual swearing, moderate details on nightmares/panicking afterwards

To be fair, John has walked in on Alex doing stranger things.

His boyfriend is currently pinned to the floor by a mass of green _something_ , and John doesn’t really have the time to figure it out before his phone comes out to document the gorgeousness that is Alexander Hamilton, the pride of the goddamn nation, struggling with- he realizes it now- the bottom half of a Christmas tree.

Twitter might actually explode.

“John? Oh, thank God, please come help.” Alex wiggles out from under the pile of greenery and stands up, eyes eager.

“What, exactly, am I helping with? Also, you look exhausted, what the fuck?” John kisses his boyfriend hello, which is made significantly more difficult by Alex’s bouncing.

“We’re putting up a Christmas tree, John! Or, at least, I’m trying to. The instructions aren’t very helpful.” The bags under his eyes are darker than usual, even for this time of year, when Alex works nearly the entire day trying to finish up a year’s work. John worries, okay, and it’s _justified_ , because Alex has lived in New York and D.C. for almost fifteen years now and he still gets sick every winter from the chill.

“Why, baby? Aren’t you working on Christmas again?” And there’s that. The fact that John and Alex have been together for- actually, he can’t even remember how long. Ten years, probably? Something like that. The point is, they’ve never had an _actual_ Christmas together. Alexander works through the entire last two weeks of December, required to finish mountains of paperwork by the 31st at midnight, barely coming home, and then sleeps through New Year’s. They do presents on January 3rd, usually when Alexander is congested and feverish and just wants to curl into a ball and sleep, but he rips off paper tiredly and smiles at his presents and snuggles into John for most of the day.

John doesn’t _mind_ , necessarily- he’s never been one to care when they celebrate, so long as they do, but he would like to spend one Christmas not up on Capitol Hill, reading through a novel across from a sniffling Alexander because Congress needed something in five days and it couldn’t wait. He would like to spend time exchanging presents when Alex wasn’t running a 103.4 fever and could actually get out of bed for Christmas dinner. (Or present time not in a fucking _hospital_ , which has happened, unfortunately, on more than one occasion.)

Okay, maybe John minds a little. But he understands that Alexander’s work is important, that the good of the nation trumps his personal Christmas wishes, and he can deal with having Christmas a little late if it means the country keeps existing for another year.

Plus, Alexander’s make-up sex is _unreal_.

Alex’s eyes sparkle.

“It was going to be a surprise.” He pouts, but the sour expression doesn’t last for long. “I- um, so, for the first time in a decade, Congress actually managed to get me my work on time, so I may have worked my ass off for a week and finished up most of it, and then asked for vacation?”

John wraps Alexander in the biggest hug he can possibly imagine, and that’s still not enough, so suddenly they’re spinning around, Alex’s legs in the air, and laughing more than John’s ever heard.

“I’m off from the 24th to the 26th, and today, of course, to get everything ready. I figured that would actually allow me to be home on the 25th, since I’ll probably end up staying late on the 23rd and I don’t want it to run into Christmas, and if something comes up, I can go in early on the 26th but not miss everything, and…” He’s rambling now, blushing all the way down to his chest, but John doesn’t care.

“You’re going to be here on Christmas?”

“I’m going to be here on Christmas.” Alex gives him such a gorgeous smile that John almost proposes right then and there.

“We’re going to actually have our celebration on the 25th? We’re going to do presents in the living room, with the tree and the lights and everything? We’re going to have a Christmas dinner that isn’t take-out?” It’s gentle teasing, but John really wants this, really wants a traditional Christmas with his untraditional family, with his boyfriend here and not half-dead from fever.

“Yes, my dearest John. We are going to celebrate Christmas on the 25th like normal people, and I am not going to spend it in bed, and you are not going to worry about me, because I am not going to be sick. And I’m sorry that we’ve done it like that in the past. I know- I know this is important to you. It’s going to be so special, John Laurens.” Alex pushes John against the wall, kissing him softly, and John sinks into it, letting Alex’s lips pull him far, far away from this place.

“However, we won’t have anywhere to put our presents if I can’t get up this godforsaken tree.” And his Alex drops to the floor again, trying to maneuver the bottom half of a fake tree into the stand. And John grins again, taking too many pictures and finally, for the first time in nearly a decade, letting himself get excited about Christmas.

Even if it is only is the 18th.

\--

“Do you know how much college I went to? So much college, John! I am the Secretary of the Treasury of the United States! I went to law school! I work for the President! How am I being bested by a fake tree?” Alex has been lying on the floor for at least fifteen minutes, trying to figure out how to get the tree stand to properly support the mass of green needles on top of him.

“I don’t know, Alex. Doesn’t the White House have a Christmas tree? Maybe you should ask the President to come help.” John hasn’t laughed this hard in _years_ , and he probably should be helping, but the image of Alex screaming at a tree stand is just too good to try and inhibit.

“I am not asking President George Washington to help me put up a tree! I can do it- oof!” He coughs as the needles fall against his chest. “Fuck this, John, we’re doing presents in bed. This ridiculous tree is going to ruin our Christmas. It’s the tree’s fault and not mine at all.” He pouts again, and John leans down to kiss it away.

“Also, babe, you’re doing it wrong. The round bit goes on the stand, not on the tree part.” John fixes the part in question and aligns the pieces, easily slotting the tree into the stand.

“And why could you not have done that ten minutes ago?” Alex asks huffily.

“You were cute. Also, I needed pictures. Which have now gone to Twitter. I love you.”

“You’re an asshole.”

\--

“John, this is an electrician’s nightmare. Why are there six different strings plugged into this one outlet? Why is this section not lit up?” Alex looks stressed, his hands knotting in his hair as he paces around the tree. “This part doesn’t even have a plug- what is this?”

“Alex. Alex, honey, it doesn’t need to be perfect. We’re going to put our own lights on anyway. Come here.” Alex comes and curls up on John’s lap, but his hands are drumming restlessly against the side of the couch.

“Shhhh. Doesn’t have to be perfect. Drink.” John says softly, pressing a mug of hot chocolate into Alex’s hands and a kiss to his temple. He drinks deeply, a spot of whipped cream on the tip of his nose, and John can’t resist the urge to kiss it off.

“It _does_ need to be perfect, John. Christmas is important to you, and you want it to be perfect, so I want it to be perfect, and it isn’t.” Alex takes another sip from his mug with slightly shaking hands- he’s starting to wind down, and if John can manage it, his boyfriend might end up actually getting a decent night’s sleep before he throws himself back into work for a week. The decent sleep might be at- he checks his watch- one in the afternoon on a Tuesday, but Alex has never slept on a proper schedule anyway.

“Alexander Hamilton. Are you going to be with me on Christmas?” A vigorous nod. “Then my Christmas will be perfect. You look exhausted- do you want to sleep while I finish decorating? Or is helping me decorate something important to you?”

Alex shrugs. “I want to help. Let’s wait until Laf gets back, though.” His voice trails off slowly, and John laughs as his eyes drift shut. “I’m not asleep.” He says softly, but he’s not that far away from it either.

“Alright, Alex. Sleep, dearest.” John brushes Alex’s hair away from his face as he relaxes, slowly, into sleep. He looks so much younger when he’s asleep, like the college freshman he was when they met, and John presses tiny kisses to his forehead before covering his small frame with a blanket.

\--

Alex wakes up to see John in Rudolph pajama pants, shirtless, dancing around the room to Jingle Bells with Lafayette, who has tinsel wrapped around their waist and seems to be wearing an elf costume.

He blinks, wondering if he’s dreaming, or if he somehow slept until the first of April. “John?” He mumbles quietly, because the music is too loud and the lights are too bright and he doesn’t know what time it is and oh, god, he has so much _work_ to do, so much to finish so that Christmas can be perfect with his John but the tree isn’t lit right and there are ornaments all over the floor so there can’t be presents, and _shit_ , presents, he needs to wrap those but with what time? Okay, so he’ll just spend an hour wrapping them when he’s off work, that’s okay, but he needs to get paper and he’s already tired and he just woke up and what if John doesn’t like his presents, what if something happens and he can’t be home for Christmas, John would be so disappointed in him, John worries about him, John doesn’t want him to overwork himself-

“Alex. Alexander. Hey, look at me, baby, it’s okay. It’s ten o’clock at night on the 18th of December. You’re in our apartment, on the couch. You got work off today to decorate, but you were really tired, so I let you sleep. You’re not late for work, you’re not supposed to be working right now. Lafayette came back around seven. Are the lights giving you a headache, baby?” Without question, Lafayette switches the tree off, and Alex stops squinting. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on in there?” He strokes a finger down Alex’s cheek and taps on his temple.

“Just- just worrying about Christmas. Want it to be perfect for you.” Alex mumbles again, blushing slightly. “I need to work so I can be here and I need to wrap all the presents and we need to figure out food and I don’t understand how to make the tree work and I’m sorry.”

“Alexander, my love, Christmas is going to be perfect because I’ll have you. I don’t care about anything else. I’m going to have you, and Lafayette and Hercules and Washington and the Schuylers are going to come over for dinner, which I am going to cook, and it is going to be perfect. Lafayette and I got the tree working, and we put the colored lights on that I thought you’d like.” John strokes through his hair softly, and Alex begins to brighten, his trademark excitement showing in his eyes. He’s still shaky and stressed out beyond belief, but his smile is radiant.

“I cannot believe you’re cooking Christmas dinner for the President, John Laurens.” He grins quietly and pulls himself to his feet. “Are you done with the ornaments? Or, um- or could I hang some?”

“Of course you can hang some, darling. Come on, we’ve barely started.” John kisses his temple again and Alex shivers all over.

“Do I have to join your weird half-naked Christmas party? Because it’s cold.” He huffs, pulling the blanket around his shoulders. Lafayette exchanges a worried look with John; they know how much John frets over Alex during the winter, when the other man can’t seem to keep a temperature below 99 for more than a week.

“No, but you should change into the Frosty pants I bought you last year, if for no other reason than because I love watching you change. And also because you’re still in a suit.”

Alex returns in his Frosty the Snowman pajama pants and a ridiculous Christmas sweater that Mulligan had made him in college, his smile brighter than John had ever seen it during this time of the year. “Hi.” He says, suddenly shy as he picks up an ornament from one of the boxes and starts looking for a place on the tree. They settle into a comfortable silence, broken only when Alexander somehow ends up tangled in tinsel and none of them stop laughing for ten minutes.

\--

“Try to get some sleep. Eat something. I’ll see you on Christmas.” John knows that it’s useless to ask Alexander to come home and sleep- it’s almost an hour each way and those two hours could be better spent sleeping. Or working. He reminds himself that the five days he will spend without Alex will be met with a perfect Christmas.

“I’ll try. I love you so much. I’ll see you on Christmas.” Alex pushes into John, his lips insistent, as if trying to fit a week of kisses into this one. They stay like that for a moment, for forever, for not long enough. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you on Christmas.” He repeats it like a mantra, like a promise. John wraps the threadbare red scarf around Alexander’s neck before giving him one last peck. It won’t do much to protect him from the cold, but it’s better than nothing.

“I’ll see you on Christmas, my dear.”

Alex piles himself into the cab and immediately pulls out his laptop, typing incessantly at one of the documents he had neglected over the past day. Washington wasn’t expecting him in until the afternoon- something about getting proper rest- but Alex had slept through yesterday, decorated for a few hours, and then slept until ten. He hopes it will be enough.

\--

Alexander only remembers bits and pieces of the last few days. It’s 1 am on the 23rd of December, and he has one more form to submit before he’s done with inter-Cabinet work. He remembers about two sleeps, Martha Washington bringing them food at some point, John kissing him goodbye, Washington’s warning to get some rest. Jefferson is half-asleep on the couch in his office and Alexander wants to join him- he doesn’t think he’s slept in 28 hours, but he’s not entirely sure at this point.

“I finished ST-115. I’m signing and submitting, and then I’m going to sleep. Stay in here if you want, I don’t give a fuck.” Alexander’s voice is barely above a whisper, and it’s nasally and weak. Despite his best efforts, he’s been coughing since Madison left for vacation, even if he can’t remember exactly when that was. Jefferson says he’s been running a low fever since late on the 20th and his voice went out early the 21st, but he knows he can’t leave them to do all the work. He’s worked through worse before.

He hasn’t told John yet. He doesn’t want to ruin Christmas.

“You’re done then. Here.” Jefferson throws a pillow and blanket at him and he sighs in relief. “What other stuff do you have?”

“Reading over reports, signing off, and some budget negotiations that Congress still hasn’t sent over. That’s for after Christmas, though. It’s only about four days of work, and I can do some of it at home. I can always come in on the 26th if necessary, but for once, I think I have extra time. It’s Sunday- I’m going home.” He yawns and then coughs, but ignores the blanket, opting instead to call a cab.

\--

It’s 3 am on the day before Christmas Eve, and there is a knock at the door. John looks up from his novel and answers the door to the only other person who would be awake at this hour- a small, shivering Alexander Hamilton. Snow is still caught in his hair, melting against the back of his neck and making him shiver uncontrollably. Despite that he’s bundled in layers upon layers of wool, only his face peeking out, he’s coughing; his nose is red and his skin is pale, but it’s Alex.

“I didn’t expect you home this early, babe.” He says jokingly, but Alex doesn’t laugh, just pushes closer to his John.

“John.” He whispers, voice cracking. “I came home for Christmas.” John pulls him inside, hands shaking, and helps take off the layers of clothing. Alex’s face is cold from the chill outside, but John can feel the fever through his dress shirt as he pulls Alexander into a hug.

“You did. Come on, you, we’re taking a hot shower to warm you up. When was the last time you slept?”

“Probably sometime on the 21st? Really tired. Hungry too.” His voice is weaker than John has heard it before, and they start walking towards the bathroom. Alex follows his boyfriend quietly and doesn’t protest when John pulls off both of their clothes and gently leads him into the shower. The hot water wakes him up slightly, but he’s still leaning against John, forehead to shoulder, and coughing badly. The hot water helps with the congestion, but his head hurts from all the lights and movement and his chest has been aching from the cold and he coughs again and he just wants to _sleep_.

“Lift your head up a little, baby.” John pours shampoo into his hand and lathers it through Alex’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. Alex looks up at him, all tired gratitude and pure adoration, and John kisses the tip of his nose. “We’re going to warm you up, get some food into you, and then sleep, okay? Does that sounds good?” Alex nods against his chest as John starts rinsing out Alex’s hair, hands gently holding the other boy steady. He runs a washcloth over his boyfriend’s skinny frame, pressing kisses to his too-hot skin as he does so.

“Turn off the water and come here, darling.” John wraps his Alex in a warm towel and tries not to wince as he shakes with the unexpected cold. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He repeats softly, drying him off quickly and replacing the towel with flannel pajama pants and an old sweatshirt. “You’re going to be okay, darling.”

Alexander manages to get through two and a half grilled cheese sandwiches and a dose and a half of NyQuil Severe before collapsing into bed, covered in blankets and one John Laurens. Despite the coughing (worse than usual, John notes) and the wheezing he can hear as Alex breathes, he falls asleep immediately, breaths falling into a relaxed, even if congested rhythm. John curls up, head on Alex’s chest, and listens to his breathing until he drifts off.

\--

John wakes up around 10 am, momentarily confused as to why Alex is actually in bed with him instead of at work. The other boy is still warm to the touch, but some color is back in his face and the wheezing and sniffling seems to be subsiding. John runs his lips over Alex’s forehead before pulling himself out of bed to finish wrapping his presents. Lafayette, Mulligan, and the Schuylers had all left their presents under the tree in small piles, and John only had two more things to wrap before he was done.

He hears heavy breathing coming from the bedroom, followed by screaming and a very broken “John!” and he comes running.

Alexander is sitting up in bed, blankets around his shoulders, gripping at his stomach as he coughs and shakes. “Hey, baby. Hey. It’s about eleven in the morning on December 23rd. You’re safe here. Can you try to take a breath in for me, baby? There we go, that’s good. Take another one. There you go, you’re doing great. Just keep breathing for me, baby, you’re doing fine. Shhhh, you’re okay, everything’s okay.”

John holds a glass of water to Alex’s lips, trying to ignore the shaking in his own hands. “Hey. You okay now, baby?” He shakes his head no. “What happened? Did you have another nightmare?” Alex nods, embarrassed, and John crawls into bed, opening his arms for Alexander to burrow into. Alex barely ever had night terrors anymore, but they tended to come when he was stressed, or tired, or sick.

Or, you know, all of the above.

“It wasn’t real, baby. You know what’s real? This, right here. I’m here, and I’m holding you, and it’s almost Christmas. This is real, dearest. We’re going to do presents, and we’re going to have dinner with everyone we love, and we’re going to be together. Shhhh, you’re okay, baby.” Alex’s shaking calms down until he’s deathly still, and John almost thinks he’s asleep until he speaks.

“I- I couldn’t wake up. It was raining and everyone was dying and I couldn’t get out of it, I couldn’t wake myself up. You were there and Lafayette and Hercules and Eliza and you were all dead, you all left. There was so much rain, and you were gone, and then I woke up and I couldn’t breathe right and then I started coughing. I’m sorry.”

“That’s probably just the medicine, baby. It’s okay, you’re awake now, you’re okay. It wasn’t real. I’m right here, I’m alive, baby. Lafayette and Hercules and Eliza are all alive. Are you still tired, baby?” John knows he’s being overly sweet, that the nicknames would have Alex teasing him any other day, but right now, Alex is sick and scared and he relaxes just a little bit more with every affectionate gesture. Alex nods again.

“Can I- Can I sleep on the couch? ‘s closer to you.”

“I’m not leaving you, dearest. Go back to sleep. Or, if you don’t think you can sleep right now, we can go watch movies in the living room.” Alex nods at that and John pulls them both to their feet, a steadying hand on his back.

“Besides the nightmare, how are you feeling?” John asks, half afraid of the answer as they settle on the couch.

“My throat hurts and I’m sleepy, but that’s about it.” His voice sounds better, too, and he’s no longer burning up. He pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders, though, and shivers slightly until John gets up to grab another one.

“Can I take your temperature?” John holds the thermometer out for Alex to take, and after a minute or so, it blinks. 101.2. “You’re getting better, dearest, though that might also be the medicine. Come here, I’m sure ABC has Christmas specials playing.” Alex cuddles into John’s side, face buried in his neck, and John turns on the TV absentmindedly. Rudolph plays in the background as Alex drifts back into an uneasy sleep.

\--

John: _Hey, Alex has had a rough morning (woke up around 10 to a nightmare and he’s just now asleep again) and he’s still sick as a dog, so we’re probably not gonna make the Schuylers party tonight, sorry :(_

Laf: _That’s fine. How’s he doing? :/_

John: _Nightmare really freaked him out. We’re on the couch now and he’s still pretty shaken up, but he’s sleeping, at least. I think the NyQuil prevented him from waking up when he tried to. He woke up coughing and he says his throat hurts, but he’s also on meds and still doesn’t feel well. I’m worried :/_

Laf: _It’s good that he’s asleep, at least. Do you want me to come over? I know he’s a handful when he’s sick and you have stuff to do_

John: _If you want. I’m not leaving the couch until he’s awake, though- it really freaked him out when he woke up and I wasn’t there, and he’s nervous enough that I think moving him might wake him_

Laf: _I’ll be over in about 20 minutes. Not your fault, you didn’t know he was going to panic. <3_

John: _< 3_

\--

“I let myself in.” Lafayette kisses the top of John’s head and Alex’s nose, running a loving hand through the sleeping boy’s hair.

“Thank you. I’m worried about him.”

“I am too, John, but he’s going to be okay. Sleeping is good.” They lean down to kiss John properly, lips soft and only a little cold.

Lafayette leaves their queerplatonic partners on the couch as they head into the kitchen. “John, I’m going to make tea for his throat.” Once it’s done, they bring over a thermos and join Alex and John on the couch, somehow managing to squeeze in between Alexander and the cushions.

Alex wakes fully around 6 pm, cocooned between his boyfriend and his Lafayette, warm and happy. “Merry Christmas.” He mumbles against Lafayette’s chest, and they rumble with laughter and kiss his forehead softly.

“Merry Christmas, **my star**. It’s 6 pm on December 23rd. How are you feeling? We’ve been worried about you.” Their voice is soothing and Alex relaxes against them.

“Little warm. Congested. Headache. My throat hurts a lot, but I woke up screaming from a nightmare, so that might be why. Chest hurts a lot too.” He adds quietly, and John frowns.

“Okay. Can we take your temperature?” Alex nods and opens his mouth, snuggling in closer to John. “You’re at 102.9, baby, but the medicine has worn off. Laf made tea, which might help with your throat. Can you sit up for me?” Alex manages to get himself upright, leaning heavily against Lafayette and paling as he does so. John bites down his worry and opens the thermos, holding it to Alex’s lips with the ease of someone who has done this before and would gladly do it again. “Do you want something to eat, baby?”

“Maybe later. Don’t want you to leave.” Alex happily cuddles against John, who turns the TV volume up and balances a box of tissues on his lap. Lafayette wraps an arm around Alexander and kisses his hair every time he sneezes or coughs, gently reminding him of their presence, the fact that they’re not going to leave him.

Alex manages to stay awake through Elf, but as the credits come to a close, he drifts off against Lafayette, their arms wrapped securely around his torso. They’re worried; his skin is hot and he’s still congested and his normal boundless energy is gone, replaced with shivers and wheezes.

“Do you want me to stay over?” They ask John, mindlessly kissing Alex’s hair.

“If you want. You know you’re always welcome, and Alex has sort of pinned you down, regardless. I’m making dinner- any preference? I just realized that I haven’t eaten since this one got home. He’s quite clingy when he’s sick.” John lovingly kisses his forehead before moving to the kitchen.

“Whatever you’re having is fine. Hey, hey, shhhh, you’re safe here, Alexander.” They turn towards Alex as he starts to wince. “Alexander, you’re in the living room of your apartment. You’re sitting on Lafayette’s lap, John is standing in front of you. You’re in absolutely no danger, you’re completely safe, it’s okay.” They murmur softly, hands in his hair and easing both of them down. Alex’s squirms subside and he moves closer to Laf, who just laughs and kisses his hair again.

Alex drifts in and out of sleep throughout Christmas Eve, never staying awake enough to do more than eat a few crackers or drink some tea before he starts to cough or sneeze violently. John and Lafayette try to coax medicine into him before his eyes close again, check his temperature when they can, worry incessantly.

\--

Alex wakes up with his head pillowed in Lafayette’s lap and John nowhere to be found. “Hello, my star. It’s 8 am on Christmas Day. You’ve been asleep for a while; John just got up to finish cooking breakfast- he’s just in the kitchen. How are you feeling?”

“Warm. Lousy. ‘m still sick.” He pouts and sniffles, and Lafayette hands him a tissue wordlessly. John comes in from the kitchen, smiling.

“Breakfast’s ready- oh, you’re awake, dear. Laf, what’s his temperature?”

“100.7.” They respond, not bothering to keep the worry out of their voice. “And he took DayQuil about three hours ago, so that’s after fever reducers.”

“Okay. Okay, that’s that.” He kneels next to the couch, keeping his eyes level with Alex’s. “Hi, baby. What hurts?”

“Throat. Head. Chest.” He lists off quietly. “And I’m congested still.”

“There’s not much we can do for that without overdosing you, baby, I’m sorry. Do you want anything for breakfast?”

Alex shakes his head and winces as it aggravates his headache. “’m sorry I ruined Christmas.” He whispers, looking at John nervously. “I know you wanted to have a real Christmas when you didn’t have to worry about me, and I’m sorry.”

“Baby, you didn’t ruin Christmas. I’m still here, with you, right? It’s not your fault you’re sick, and I’m not angry at you. I understand why, even though I might not like it. I’m so glad you came home to me.” John kisses Alex on the forehead. “My Christmas is perfect because you’re here, okay?” Alex nods and winces again.

“Okay. Laf, can you eat in here? I don’t want to move him, especially if his headache is that bad.” John looks at them apologetically, but Lafayette just shrugs and smiles.

\--

At 5:30, their living room is bustling with activity, exactly the way Alex likes it. Peggy and Eliza are sitting together in the big leather armchair while Angelica lounges on the other couch, leaning up against Hercules. Washington sits on the other end of the couch with a smile on his face as he looks at his Secretary of the Treasury, not masking the worry he feels towards the smaller man. Lafayette still has their arm around Alex’s middle, and their heads are sharing residence on John’s lap. His fever broke a few hours prior, much to Lafayette and John’s pleasure, but he’s still kind of tired and his voice is weak, so he’s trying not to strain himself.

“Everything okay, Alex? I’d expect you to be bouncing off the walls at this point.” Peggy asks.

“Alex has been feeling a little under the weather lately.” John responds simply, his hand tangled in Alex’s hair. He’s bursting with energy regardless, but it’s less excitement and more nervousness, which isn’t helping with the exhaustion, and Lafayette rubs soothing circles into his hand with their thumb. He sneezes twice and blushes under the attention, burying his face in Lafayette’s neck.

“Alright! Since I’m sort of pinned down by two very cute people, someone else will have to play Santa.” John laughs when Alex smiles shyly and grabs the Santa cap on the table. He pulls it over his ears, but blushes even harder when President Washington takes the hat from him, proclaiming “You need your rest, Alexander. I need you alive for the next few years, or the country won’t function.” He grins as he settles between John and Lafayette again, looking for all the world like a five year old on- well, on Christmas. His head falls onto Lafayette’s shoulder, and they lean back carefully and kiss his forehead.

“He’s still really warm.” They whisper to John quietly, an edge of nervousness, but Alex has already kissed Lafayette back on the chin and they’re smiling again, looking at him with their eyes full of love and adoration. Alex closes his eyes and lets the tension leave his body, warm and pliant between two of his favorite people, surrounded by the others, and he smiles.

\--

“Dinner is ready! We have to eat in here, because I am thirty two and I still do not own a dining room, but regardless, Christmas dinner is served!” John announces, bringing over two plates for him and Lafayette. Alex still doesn’t have much of an appetite, but he smiles at John with those big eyes and John almost melts into the couch.

Once everyone is seated with dinner, Alex brightens up a bit, somehow both energized by the people in the room but embarrassed at the attention he receives when he begins to sneeze or cough. He steals a dinner roll from John’s plate and nibbles on it innocently, as if John would never notice if Alex batted his eyelids enough.

“Okay, okay. Now that someone is finally awake enough to join us, I think it’s finally time to open presents!” Eliza proclaims, looking towards Alex. “Alex, do you want to go first? Just in case you want to go to sleep early.” Everyone turns towards him and he blushes again, unused to the attention when it wasn’t about his work, but somehow it’s invigorating, because he’s grinning and he has that light in his eyes. Alex looks so goddamn happy, brighter than the Christmas tree, and John falls a little bit more in love then and there.

He picks up the biggest box first, wrapped in electric yellow paper, with a tag proclaiming ‘To: The Worst Kid in My Residence Hall; Love: The Best RA’.

“Hercules, I was not the worst.” Alex argues lightly, but his grin is traced with mischief.

“Do you know how many times this kid went to the clinic? Same diagnosis, every time- too stressed, needs to sleep more. And yet, he had to keep going back. You never learn.” Hercules rolls his eyes and Alex grins wider.

“In my defense, I really cared about my work.” He rips off the paper eagerly, and John is so happy that he still has that energy. He remembers countless times before in which the fever and cough overtook Alex enough that opening presents was difficult, and Alex is just bright today; regardless of the lingering cough, he’s energetic and happy and John’s heart fills to the top with adoration for this person.

“Oh my god, Hercules.” It’s a quilt, made from all of his different college t-shirts. Alex looks like he’s about to cry as he traces over the letters. “How’d you get the shirts?” He asks softly, voice thick, and John rubs his back.

“I may have snuck into your dresser.” John whispers, and Alex smiles up at him.

“Thank you.” He keeps marveling at it, fingers brushing over different designs, as if he can’t believe someone could do this. “I love it, Hercules, thank you.” He wipes at his eyes and turns red again before burying his face in his hands, half laughing. John pulls him closer with a kiss to the temple.

Alex carefully pulls himself upwards to give Hercules a hug. “Whoa there, Alex. Careful now.” He grins and wraps Alexander up tightly in his arms, and if Alex’s eyes are red when he pulls away, it’s definitely just because he’s sick. John gingerly helps Alex back to his seat, taking note of the light sheen of sweat that’s broken out across his forehead.

“Maybe let them come to you next time, dearest.” He whispers, and Alex makes a noise of acknowledgement before settling between John and Lafayette.

“Open mine next!” Peggy giggles, pointing to the candy cane paper. Alex tears it off, a bit more reserved after his last present, but the blush returns as he realizes what she bought.

“I think you’re all conspiring against me.” He mumbles into Lafayette’s shoulder, eyes wet with tears. “This isn’t fair! I am _sick_ and you are all taking advantage. You should all be ashamed. Ashamed!” The room erupts in laughter and Alexander grins down at the photo frame. On the top is a photo from Alex’s college graduation. Eliza and Alex are both in their graduation gowns, surrounded by John, Lafayette, Hercules, Angelica, Peggy, and George. Their arms are around each other, John’s lips to Alex’s cheek, and he can’t remember smiling bigger. That is, until he sees the second picture, taken at Washington’s inauguration, two years prior. George and Alex are in full suits, surrounded by their friends in almost the same pose. The words “family is forever” are written in script between the photos, and Alex gets choked up again as Peggy smiles.

“The President of the United States informed me that your desk was barren, so I figured it would be nice.”

“I love it, Peg. Thank you.” He wipes more tears away to the laughter of his John and then looks back at the presents at his feet. “Nope, no more presents. I’m not going to stop crying!” Lafayette wraps their arms around his middle and kisses his cheek as John reaches for the next one, this time from Eliza and Angelica. John sets the bag on his lap and cuddles into his side as Alex pulls out a green scarf, emblazoned with gold wording.

“It’s- um, it’s the Declaration of Independence. Except on a scarf?” Eliza manages to say in between laughs, and Alex bursts into giggles, not at all hindered by the harsh coughing that follows.

“Oh my _god_ , Eliza, how the fuck did you find this? I feel like there’s not a very big market for federal document scarves.” Alex smiles widely and sets it aside, reaching back into the bag to find- hair ties?

“It’s so you can stop stealing mine, Alexander.” Angelica grins over the pile of presents on her lap. “Open the last one! It’s my favorite.” He finally pulls out a photo album filled with pictures of him and John- old Polaroids from their college days, their first date, both of their college graduations, their first apartment in New York, John graduating med school- Alex can’t look anymore, he’s openly crying into John’s shirt now, and even John looks a little misty-eyed.

“You’ve been together long enough that we figured you should have one. And neither of you are organized enough to make it yourselves. You would not _believe_ the amount of stuff I had to dig through to find those photos in John’s college boxes.” Angelica laughs and Alexander joins her, but he doesn’t let go of the photo album.

“You’re all assholes. Why are you so dedicated to trying to make me cry?” John runs a hand over his hair softly as he composes himself before turning to the shrinking pile at his feet. “I’m actually afraid to open the rest of these. George, please tell them to stop. You’re the President, you can do that, right?” George Washington chuckles and points to a box on the table.

“Open mine next. I may have given them the opposite order. It’s for both of you, actually.” Alex hands the red and green envelope to his boyfriend, who pulls out a sheet of paper. “I’m- confused?” John says. Alex leans over and gasps.

“How?” He turns to Washington with an incredulous look.

“I’m the President. It’s not that hard to get someone to finish up paperwork, especially when that paperwork didn’t need to be completed by you. John, that’s a printout of the screen Alex sees when he submits all the work he needs to do. Alex, all you need to do is sign, which you can do here. I figured that you could use the time off.”

“Thank you, George. We appreciate it.” John says before pulling Alex into his lap. He feels a weight lift off his chest, suddenly, and he grins wildly.

“Thank you.”

“Enjoy yourself, Alexander. You don’t let yourself relax enough.”

Alex stands up to grab the gift it was attached to and hands it to John, suddenly feeling very dizzy and very tired. He leans heavily against Lafayette and closes his eyes, trying to breathe deeply.

“Alex? What’s going on, dearest?” John kneels in front of him again, carefully not touching him, present abandoned on the couch. “Alex? You’ve got to talk to me, baby, or I can’t help.”

“Just- just really dizzy. And tired.” He mumbles, swallowing hard. Someone hands John a glass of water.

“Alex? Do you think you can drink this for me? It’s just water, it’ll help. Can you open your eyes for me?” He does, and they’re scared, so unlike the joyful ones from earlier, and John swallows. “Can you hold it, or do you want me to do it?” When he doesn’t reach for the glass, John holds it against his lips, slowly watching Alexander relax as he drinks. “There we go. Do you want to sleep or stay here and do presents?”

“Presents. Sorry.” He says louder, and Lafayette kisses his temple.

“Nothing to be sorry for, **my dear**. We just want you to be okay.”

Alex turns to Washington’s present and carefully rips the bow off, hands shaking, and John vividly remembers all their other Christmases where Alex’s hands shook, where he tried to be excited for John, but just couldn’t muster the energy. “Alex, baby, why don’t you relax for a bit and let everyone else open some presents?” He looks up at John with such gratitude, exhaustion evident in his eyes, and before they can decide who goes next, he’s fast asleep across John and Lafayette.

\--

Alex wakes up after about an hour, a series of harsh coughs marking the time. “Hi, dearest. It’s 7:30 pm on Christmas Day. You got really tired when we were doing presents and fell asleep, but that’s okay. There’s still some more left for you, if you want. Peggy, Angelica, and Eliza have opened all their gifts except the ones from you, but you’re still halfway through opening your present from George. No one’s upset with you for falling asleep; we all know you’re tired.” He’s so grateful to John, so grateful that he met this person who helped focus him, helped remind him of where and when he was, helped him while he was sick.

“I love you.” He says softly, and John laughs.

“I figured. Here, my love.” Alex moves to curl up against Lafayette as John hands him the present. He finishes tearing off the paper, significantly more energetic now, and grins over at Washington.

“Thank you, George.” He hands the box of chocolates over to John and smiles happily against his queerplatonic partner, accepting the kiss on the nose from them.

“Okay, okay, my turn! Mine is also for both of you, **my dears**.” Lafayette excitedly hands Alex another envelope, this one blue, and Alex tears it open to find a check, written out for the purpose of ‘10 Year Anniversary’. The amount is blank.

“Laf.” Alex can’t seem to make his mouth work properly, just turns to them, speechless. “How did you- what-” Everyone laughs as Alex gives up on words and pushes Lafayette into the couch with his hug.

“Thank you, Lafayette.” Alex says quietly, suddenly feeling overwhelmed at all the love and care these people were giving him.

“You’re welcome, **my star**. I figured you might like to go somewhere for your 10 years.” They kiss Alexander’s forehead and hand him the last gift, from John.

“Open it, dearest.” John whispers, lips tauntingly against his ear. He rips off the paper to find the sketchbook he had bought John last year, filled with drawings. Alex stops at one in particular- John has drawn him, half-asleep on a lazy morning, hair sleep mussed and spread across the pillows, sunshine streaming through the window. There are more, some of Alexander and George at formal events, some of Hercules and Lafayette, but all are done so carefully.

“Why are you all trying to make me cry?” Alex repeats, moving the sketchbook so it doesn’t get damaged. “John Laurens.” He doesn’t seem to be able to get any farther, and just hugs him as tight as possible.

“Merry Christmas, Alexander.”

\--

John is forced to open his presents last, since his lap is currently being occupied by a sick Alexander who is attempting to stay awake.

Lafayette goes next, pressing kisses to Alex and John’s lips when they see the scrapbook- the two of them had worked for nearly a month to perfect it, adding stickers and photos and ticket stubs to document their relationship. Alex thinks he sees Lafayette tear up as they pull away, and he crawls onto their lap instead, severely impeding the present opening.

“ **We love you.** ” Alex hugs them tightly and mumbles sleepily into their ear, but their arms tighten around him and they sigh.

“ **Thank you, my star. I love you too.** ” They whisper back, and Alex kisses their cheek and returns to John’s arms.

Lafayette reaches for the next present in their stack, but is stopped by a noise from Eliza. “Laf, maybe we should all open our presents from Alex, so he can sleep? You look exhausted.” Alex nods weakly into John’s neck, worn out by the day’s activities, even if he had only been up for a few hours.

“Wait a minute. I didn’t wrap any of my presents. I got home and fell asleep. They’re still in my drawer and under my bed, dammit-” Lafayette gently puts a hand to his chest.

“I wrapped them this afternoon, **my dear**. John told me where you hid them and we got it sorted out. Don’t stress.” Alex breathes out, calming almost as immediately as he had gotten worked up, and cuddles happily into his boyfriend again. John moves to lean into the corner of the couch and Alex grins, getting more comfortable and almost drifting off to sleep before he remembers where he is.

Washington carefully pulls the bubble wrap off of a gorgeous painting of the sunset over the beach and gasps. It’s done _beautifully_ , all the colors blended to perfection, and he turns to Alex in surprise. “How did you-”

“Martha.” Alex says quietly. “She may have mentioned a need for more art.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with either of you. Thank you, Alexander.” Washington smiles, and Alex blushes again, still not used to praise.

The rest of the night passes in a bit of a blur- Peggy thanks him for the tea set, Angelica wears her seashell necklace, Eliza- what did he get Eliza again? He can’t seem to remember…

“He’s out.” John says fondly, shifting Alexander so he was sleeping horizontally, head resting on John’s lap. “He’ll probably sleep the rest of the night, honestly, poor kid’s exhausted.”

“I don’t think you can call him kid anymore, John. Especially since you’re no longer a year above him in college, and definitely because you’ve been dating for almost ten years.” Hercules teases, but his gaze is kind as he looks across to his best friends. “Seriously though, will he be okay? He’s been out of it all night and I’m starting to worry.”

“He’ll be fine. He just needs sleep and fluids. He’s been working too hard and hasn’t been sleeping well.” John smiles down at his boyfriend. “He’ll be fine.” He repeats softly, and continues to watch the present exchange around him.

Washington gives Lafayette some old French relic, which gets them excited, and they receive Phantom tickets on Broadway from Peggy, Angelica, and Eliza. Hercules presents them with half a pound of a special tea blend and Washington receives a matching Constitution scarf and John drifts off at that point, half-asleep and half-listening, until he hears Lafayette whispering, “John? Are you awake, **my heart**?”

“Almost.” He says back, eyes opening. “What’s going on? Is Alex okay?”

“Alex is fine, **dear**. We just wanted to know if you wanted to open your presents.” The small stack still sits at his feet, and he shakes his head as Lafayette hands him the one on top.

“I want to wait for Alex to be awake. I know he likes watching me get excited. You’re all welcome to stay over, of course- you know where the other bedrooms are.” It’s one in the morning at this point, and John really doesn’t feel like moving to the bed, yet alone trying to carry Alex in there. He moves downwards, sliding onto the other side of Lafayette, and the two wrap Alex up in their love and talk until the sun rises.

**Author's Note:**

> Have a very happy holiday, everyone!
> 
> Title taken from: "Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen." -Bobby, age 7, when asked what love was.
> 
> You can reach me at fallenspock.tumblr.com.


End file.
